


I want to taste you on my teeth

by Saetha



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: (at least I know these fall within the general boundaries of it...), Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Edgeplay, Explicit Consent, Hurt/Comfort, KINK TIME, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Safewords, also despite the tags this is still p vanilla I think??? or maybe not??? my kinkradar is off lmao, honestly 100 percent consensual violent sex is still my fav thing agh, okay I mean there is more than JUST porn but that's the biggest part of it, okay let me know if I should any more tags/warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: “Yes,” Shay hissed, “yes. Make me bleed.”It isn't unusual that they fuck after a fight, with the smell of blood still in their nostrils and the adrenaline hot in their veins. This time, however, Shay wants them to go just a little bit farther, try something they haven't before. Haytham is happy to oblige.





	I want to taste you on my teeth

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY, DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME KIDS  
> (no, I'm serious, if you ever consider doing this at home please make sure to read up on all the safety rules and health risks involved and negotiate with your partner exactly what you are going to do and how to get out)
> 
> (ENJOY. Am I getting thrown off this ship yet? xD)

They had planned the ambush thoroughly. Two weeks of constant scouting of the gang’s routes, memorising the rotas of their watchmen and which wares were leaving and arriving at their compound each day. The gang had been hoarding food and medicines for a month now, using their self-created shortage to raise the prices and stuff their pockets with money, much to the detriment of the population around them. If it had been going after Shay, he’d have attacked immediately with his typical ‘more motivation than sense’-approach, as Haytham liked to call it.

The same Haytham was now a few steps apart from him, cloak swinging through the air as he whirled around, dealing death with frightening precision. Shay was sure that he himself looked far less elegant, although at least he was similarly effective. He had offered the gang members the opportunity to give up the fight and flee, but the dangerous glint in their eyes told him the answer before they even gave it.

“Behind you!” he yelled in Haytham’s direction, ducking out of the way of an incoming slash. Without looking, Haytham thrust behind him with his hidden blade, catching the attacking gang member in the side before bringing him down with an elbow in the face.

Shay blocked another slash in his direction with his sword, stepping into the cut and bringing up his dagger to cut the assailant’s throat. He grabbed the man as he fell, bringing the corpse around to throw it against two other gang members, disorienting them enough for Haytham to step in and finish them off from behind. With the same move, he blindly stabbed behind him as he felt someone come close, turning as the metal connected with another weapon. He flinched backwards to avoid getting his head split in two and brought his dagger around. His foe was able to block the dagger, but not the incoming thrust from Shay’s sword that followed.

The attacks subsided as quickly as they had started. The gang members had, intelligently enough, thrown themselves at them all at once and against two less experienced fighters it might even have worked – but Shay and Haytham were used to fighting beside each other now. In their rare moments of spare time they had taken to sparring both against and with each other, finding ways to integrate their rather different fighting styles and making it more effective. Shay liked to think that the reason that Haytham preferred to take him on missions more often than the other Templars was because of how well they worked together, not just because they were partners in bed.

Speaking of which…Shay turned to see Haytham wipe his blade clean on one of the fallen men’s coats. His movements were as measured and precise as always, not an ounce of strength spent where it wasn’t necessary. There were smudges of blood on Haytham’s face and larger stains on his chest and coat sleeve.

“Are you injured?” Shay nodded towards his coat. Haytham moved upright again and rolled his shoulders a little, frowning as he noticed the blood on his clothes.

“A lucky throwing knife in the arm is all, I think. Not too deep.” He flexed the fingers of his left hand. The patch of blood was largest on the sleeve there, spreading a little at the motion. “You?”

“Fine. Just a few scratches,” Shay said. Haytham raised his brows – ‘a few scratches’ according to Shay had looked a lot more serious after the rush of the fight had worn off more than once – but didn’t object, especially when Shay showed no signs of being in pain.

“We should get back to Fort Arsenal,” Haytham suggested, one hand pressed to his sleeve. Shay’s home was by far the closest and had served as base for this operation. “Charles promised he would take care of redistributing the food and goods in their warehouses. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Shay nodded. They made sure to fill their pockets with all the supplies they needed restocked – mostly ammunition, but Haytham took a few of the throwing knives as well, seemingly unbothered by the fact that one of them was covered in his own blood. It was only a short walk to Shay’s vast mansion and once inside, Haytham undid his cloak with a small sigh after they had cleaned their weapons and spoils. He fumbled just a little with his injured arm, but Shay knew better than to offer help. He only stepped in when Haytham had trouble taking off his coat and threw a glance at him. From Haytham, this was as good as an outright request for assistance. Shay had already taken off his belts and coat and after a short moment, Haytham was free of his as well.

He hissed slightly when they unbuckled the bracers from his hidden blade, the blood now flowing more freely. Shay pushed back the sleeve of his undershirt to look at the wound, leaning in close as he did so. The aroma of blood, sweat and gunpowder on Haytham’s skin was intoxicating. By the time Shay started cleaning the wound and putting in the stitches to keep it closed he had to use all his self-control to keep his fingers from shaking. Fighting with Haytham always riled him up, although rarely this badly.

Of course, Haytham was not oblivious to it either.

He took the bandage out of Shay’s hands after he almost dropped it for the third time, very deliberately letting his fingers run over his wrist.

“You’re an embarrassment. Go get the oil.” He jerked his head towards Shay’s bedroom.

“Yes, _sir_ ,” and oh, how Shay loved to see Haytham’s control slip just for the tiniest breath of a second at the tone of his voice.

When he turned away from his nightstand to return to the room, he found Haytham standing in the doorway, bandage wrapped and secured around the wound, vest gone and the laces of his shirt already half undone. There were still flecks of drying blood on Haytham’s face.

It was pure instinct that propelled Shay forward and little that was gentle in the kiss he claimed. Haytham’s mouth tasted forbiddingly good under his and there was just the smallest shiver going down Haytham’s back when Shay’s fingers wandered down his neck.

Haytham bit down on Shay’s lips, so hard the they could taste blood. It drew a groan from him, his fingers digging more deeply into Haytham’s skin.

“Yes,” he hissed, “yes. Make me bleed.”

Haytham growled and bit down harder, forcing Shay backwards into the room. It was always a give and take between them, testing their boundaries and just pushing them a little farther each time. They slammed against the opposite wall of the room, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, not enough sensation-

Shay’s fingers scrabbled on the fabric of his vest, impatient to get the remaining layers of fabric off his body. Haytham obliged and helped all too readily until Shay’s vest and undershirt landed on the floor in a crumpled heap. The wood dug into his bare skin when Shay pulled Haytham towards him again, forcing him to press his body up against the wall. The press of Haytham’s lower body against his was enough to almost drive him mad. He cursed his fingers for taking so long with the laces of Haytham’s pants. Haytham was at least as aroused as him, his cock hard already. Shay leaned forward, biting deeply into his neck in the same movement that he took him in his hand. Just a small tease, a few strokes – the sound of Haytham’s groan in his ear was enough to make him ache.

“Shay…”

Haytham flipped them around all of a sudden, making them stumble onto Shay’s bed in what was assuredly a less than grateful heap, getting rid of their remaining clothing in the process. Neither of them particularly cared. Shays hips arched upwards towards Haytham, fingers leaving lines of raised red flesh down his back and the strong flesh of his thighs.

“Make me bleed, sir,” he growled again. There was the glint of one of the freshly cleaned throwing knives in Haytham’s hands, the sensation of its cold blade on Shay's skin making him gasp and shiver in anticipation. Haytham brought up his hand and his thumb stroked Shay’s cheek with endearing gentleness.

“Are you sure?” Haytham asked, locking their gazes for a moment. Shay nodded. There was nobody else he would trust like this. He remembered the unspoken agreement between them – _If either of us goes to far, we will stop. No resentment, no questions, just one word is enough: ‘Morrigan’_.

“Yes. Yes, sir, please-“ Shay’s hands undid Haytham’s hairband, gripping the strands hard and forcing him downwards to make their lips meet. 

Haytham obliged and kissed him, softly at first until Shay grew hungry again. The blade of the knife nicked him just a little below the neck, a small cut with no more than a few drops of blood. Shay’s back stiffened, arching upwards as the exact right measure of pleasure and pain flooded through him.

“Yes,” he whispered. His fingers found the drops of blood, smearing them across his skin as he brought his thumb up to his mouth. The taste of it was metallic and strong, just as the feverish gaze from Haytham’s eyes. “Again.”

Haytham waited for only a moment, giving him time to rethink if he wanted to, before he brought the knife down again.

“Where?” he asked, one of his knees moving between Shay’s legs, forcing them apart ever so slightly. Shay’s hand moved towards his throat and Haytham shook his head.

“Too dangerous,” he said, before kissing him again. He chose his shoulder instead, the cut lightning-quick and flat, just a split second longer than the previous ones. Shay only groaned, pressing his groin upwards and against Haytham’s, one hand blindly making a grab for the oil on the nightstand. He found it after a few tries, the feeling of his own blood hot on his skin, burning him in all the best ways. Haytham was kissing the side of his throat again, moaning into his ear and grazing his ear lobe with his teeth when Shay’s oil slicked fingers wrapped around his cock and guided him downwards. And oh, but Haytham knew exactly how fast to go, where to stop and when to go deeper as Shay arched up to meet him.

Shay’s fingers dug into Haytham’s back, scratching so deep they drew blood. Haytham hissed, but moved with nothing but agonising slowness, drawing out the moment of climax. A third cut, as harmless and stimulating as the first two, joined the rest, this time further down on Shay’s chest, even as a moan rose up through his throat.

“ _Yes_.”

This time, he gently lifted the knife away from his own flesh, palm over its blunt side. Haytham let go of the handle, needing both arms with his injury to keep up his weight whilst fucking into him, mouth slightly open as his hair slowly fell down to frame his face. Shay would never tire of this sight, or of kissing those beautiful lips.

He brought the knife up to Haytham’s shoulder, giving him plenty of time to object or agree, whatever he wished. After a tiny nod from Haytham he pressed he blade against his skin, softly at first, but increasing the pressure with each new time that Haytham thrust into him. Haytham lowered his body ever so slightly, his trust in Shay’s self-control even at the height of their arousal taking Shay’s breath away.

The blood began to flow at the same moment that Haytham came with a gasp, his whole body rocking down and shuddering as the pain paired itself with sweet release and flowed through him. The knife clattered to the floor as Shay dropped it, pressing a hand through the wound, blood coating his fingers, a few drips falling on his chest.

“Are you alright, sir?” he whispered, even as he rose up against him again, craving his own release. Haytham nodded, redistributing more weight to his knees as he reached down and began stroking Shay’s cock. Shay brought up his bloody hand, his fingertips leaving trails of red on Haytham’s cheek, on top of the blood spatters from earlier. Haytham’s blood glistened red on his own lips as he bit down on Shay’s thumb. The sight of it, paired with the skillful strokes of his hand, were enough to send Shay over the edge. He came with a loud moan and Haytham’s name exploding on his lips, seed spilling hotly over both of them.

For a moment he lay in nothing but pure bliss before they both relaxed and tumbled to their side, Haytham still inside him. Haytham was breathing heavily, his fingers trailing over the small wounds he had left on Shay’s body.

“Are you hurt?” he asked earnestly, a question that drew a smile on Shay’s lips. It should be him asking Haytham, especially regarding the blood on Haytham’s own chest and how the bandage around his arm was already soaked through again where the stitches hadn’t held up.

“No,” Shay shook his head. “No more than I wanted to be. Thank you, sir. I hope I didn’t-“ His hand hovered over the wound on Haytham’s chest, feeling just a twinge of worry. It was deeper than expected.

“No. Although perhaps we should give it some time before we try anything similar again. There is only so much uninjured space on our bodies, after all.”

Shay laughed, the sound of it making Haytham smile a little.

“Thank you, sir,” he said earnestly. “And now…”

He moved his hips again, ever so slowly and immensely satisfied at the moan that rose from Haytham’s mouth. Haytham wasn’t the only one who knew exactly which spots and speed were the right ones.

“Again?” Haytham asked, the echo of a sigh in his voice almost managing to hide his arousal. “I am not the youngest anymore, you know.”

“I know,” Shay grinned. He sped up just a little, his still blood-coated fingers moving towards Haytham’s lower back. “You’ve done all of this for me, now let me spoil _you_ a little, _sir_ …”

Haytham groaned something unintelligible, that only became lower in tone when Shay brought out the oil again and slipped two fingers inside him.

“If you insist,” he mumbled, his face pressed into the crook of Shay’s neck, moving slightly until his lips found the cuts he had made earlier. His hot breath felt like fire on Shay’s skin, urging him on even more strongly as he angled his hips just so.

“Indeed I insist, sir,” Shay whispered back, pressing a kiss into Haytham’s hair. Haytham didn’t reply, but the way his body stiffened and moved against Shay’s was answer enough, especially when Shay added a third finger inside him. They took it slowly this time, all their need and hunger for both blood and flesh spend earlier. Shay never knew what he enjoyed more – those occasions where they exploded in violence or the moments when they lazily drew out the climax as if they had all the time in the world.

Haytham was content to let Shay take the lead even as he fucked into him deeply and slowly, body shuddering with every thrust. His hands were all over Shay, drawing lines down his back and curling themselves in his hair, even as his breath ghosted over his heated skin. When he finally came it was with barely a noise, just a soft sigh that was buried in his skin, shuddering one last time when Shay pulled out his fingers. Shay finished himself off quickly again, his cock not needing much in the way of additional encouragement even after Haytham pulled out of him.

“Satisfied, sir?” Shay asked, his thumb trailing along Haytham’s cheek along the traces of drying blood.

“Mhm,” Haytham mumbled. He moved away slightly so that he could see Shay’s face. “And you?”

“Yes,” Shay smiled. “Yes.” He kissed him again.

They lay on the bad for a while longer, basking in their own laziness and the knowledge that the rest of the day belonged solely to them. Nobody would be needing Haytham before tomorrow and Shay…he mostly worked on his own time either way. Wisely enough, he had given the attendants of his mansion the day off before embarking on the mission with Haytham. It wasn’t the first time that the excitement and fever of a fight had continued to affect them afterwards.

“We should clean up and look after your wounds again,” Shay suggested after a while. Haytham sighed in obvious discontent, but gave in; he knew as well as Shay that it wouldn’t do for them to catch any kind of infection from their rough play. It was rare for Haytham to appear so unguarded and relaxed in his emotion and watching him made Shay smile once more.

Not bothering to put on any clothes Shay walked back into the medicine room. When he returned, Haytham was sitting up in his bed, frowning at the mess they had made both on the sheets and the floor. Unguarded as he was, he looked both older and more at peace than in quite some time.

“The sheets need to be changed,” Haytham said, picking at the soiled linen. He looked over at Shay, not even pretending that he wasn’t appreciative of every inch of him as he came walking towards him.

“Yes,” Shay agreed. Haytham was blessedly free of any kind of shame when it came to body worship and so he gave him a few more seconds to take in the view before settling down on the bed next to him again. He clucked his tongue when he unwrapped the bandages around Haytham’s arm. Half the stitches had opened up again under the strain and he lost no time cleaning the wound and replacing them. Haytham remained stoically silent throughout all of it, the stiffness in his chin as he ground his teeth the only sign of pain. Afterwards, Shay moved on to the fresh wound in his shoulder.

“This is deeper than it should be,” he murmured, unable to meet Haytham’s eyes. “I’m sorry, sir, I-“

“Shay.” Haytham gripped his wrist, forcing him to stop his ministrations for a moment. He used his other hand to tilt up Shay’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “I’m fine, Shay. I know my limits. And be assured that should you ever cross them, I will say so loud and clear. Do you trust me to do so?”

“Yes.” Shay found himself leaning forwards for another kiss, the echo of blood and lust still strong on their tongues. “I trust you, Haytham.”

“Good. And I you.” Haytham smiled just a little before releasing Shay’s wrist, letting him go back to his task. The wound was deep enough to have bled decently, but not deep enough to require stitches, so Shay made sure to clean and wrap it securely before changing out the water and handing over the basin and cloth to Haytham.

“Hold still,” Haytham told him. His fingers were soft as he cleaned out the cuts and any other scrapes from leftover from the fight earlier. His touch lingered on Shay’s skin even after he was done, fingertips trailing down his chest and tracing the numerous scars on there, quite a few more than on his own body. Shay shivered under his touch, his mind alight with the dozens of memories held within the scars. Haytham leaned forwards to place a kiss on his skin next to where he had cautiously placed a few bandages over the two deeper cuts. Shay smiled.

Later, when they had finished cleaning themselves and exchanged the sheets, Shay found himself sprawled halfway over Haytham as he was attempting to read. Somehow, Haytham’s books found their way everywhere that he was spending a certain amount of time in; they had appeared in Shay’s home and his cabin on the _Morrigan_ a mere few days after they had first slept with each other. At this point Shay was quite sure that Haytham had a bottomless chest of them somewhere so he could spread them wherever he went.

Shay was drawing lazy circles on Haytham’s stomach, running his fingers through the coarse hair on his chest and enjoying the feeling of his skin under his fingers. His hands wandered to the large knotted scar on his side. He traced its outlines and marvelled once again that Haytham had survived and was now lying next to him, alive and hole. Shay was of half a mind to move his hand deeper to tease Haytham, just to hear the annoyed tone of his voice again that always amused him so much. He thought better of it, however; as it was, he was deeply content where he was right now, lazy and sated from their earlier bout.

As he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, he could imagine that this bliss would never end, that somehow life would let them live like this for many more years. Of course it wouldn’t; Shay had grown far too mistrustful of anything good that fate handed him and it wasn’t as if Haytham lived a life free from danger and betrayal either. Still, he could pretend.

If only for a little while.


End file.
